The Art of Letting Go
by morvamp
Summary: It's easy to see she means it; she's ready to let Stefan go. Problem is, Damon's not sure he's ready to let go with her.


**This one-shot came about because it refused to release it's hold on my mind. I was incapable of thinking about anything else and I'm real hoping it's the reason I hit such a nasty bit of writer's block halfway through writing the next chapter of my other story.**

**I have to admit, it's different in certain ways from anything else I've written, especially in the progression of time. But I love trying new styles and techniques when it comes to one-shots and ultimately, I'm really happy with the end result. **

_**I hope you guys like it.**_

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><p>He's long since accepted her incessant need to save people. She doesn't respond well to resistance and the act only increases her will to save the people who don't desire it in the first place. He knows about that first hand. So when she says <em>we'll let him go<em>, referring to his brother and the former purpose of her existence, he's pretty damn sure his jaw collides with the floor.

He's familiar with the fire behind her determined stare as she says it, but for the first time it almost intimidates him. Because it's one of the things he marvels in her the most; her ability to match _his_ fire when she sets her mind to something. But for the first time, he can't match the intensity of the flames behind her declaration.

It's easy to see she means it with every ounce of her being; she's ready to let Stefan go. She no longer feels the need to save him from himself.

After painful nights of standing outside of her window and listening to her sob into the down contents of her pillow. After risking her life countless times to find Stefan only to come back empty handed. After all of their heated battles where she insisted Stefan could be saved. And after all of the times he held onto hope with clenched hands because if she still had hope then he sure as hell could.

After all of that, she's finally decided to let go.

So he nods his head because that's clearly what she wants from him at the moment. But he's downright relieved when his cell rings in his pocket and Katherine interrupts.

Because after everything, he's not ready to let go with her.

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><p>He's not quite sure how the routine starts, but every night he finds himself crawling through her window and slipping under her covers. Half of the time she's already asleep when he joins her and when she's still awake, she doesn't pretend to protest. They both want him there, whether it's for the general comfort of simply someone's company or the <em>specific<em> company, he's not sure. But it doesn't matter because every morning he gets to wake up to her and as the first rays of dawn shine through her curtains, he's reminded of how marvelous a day can appear when it first starts out.

This particular morning starts exactly like every other. Her eyes flutter open and a small smile plays on the corner of her lips when she takes in his dawn appearance. His raven hair is a disheveled mess, but he doesn't care anymore that she sees him at less than perfect. They both know he's not and pretending to appear that way physically does neither of them any good.

So she gets to see the real him, complete with clouds of puff under his sleepy slitted lids and in return he gets the same from her. And although she'd disagree with him until her cheeks turned blue, he believes she's most beautiful this way. There's really no competition there.

"What time did you finally show up last night?" she asks him as she slides her head and hand to rest on his chest.

"A little after midnight," he replies as his hand involuntarily makes it way to stroke the satin strands atop her head.

She breathes in an out, the rhythm steady as he rises and falls simultaneously with her. Neither one ready to acknowledge that day is right around the corner because right here in this moment, everything is simple. Everything is tranquil.

With her in his grasp, he's not worried about what his brother could possibly be doing. With him in her grasp, she feels sheltered and safe. Together in this room, they're never judged and they never feel as raw as they should. Instead they're just themselves and it's entirely natural.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispers; her eyes never making contact with his as she releases a tiny yawn and settles her head further into this chest.

He lays there for a minute; understanding that somewhere along the way they've reached this point. They haven't stepped over the boundaries of their friendship, but every day they seem to be expanding and stretching to accommodate new things. Still, neither one presses the issue because frankly it doesn't matter anymore. All that matters is that they're both there; each for the other.

So he says the only possible answer to her statement. "Me too."

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><p>She catches him for the first time as he's clicking through newspaper articles online in the pitch black of her living room. She's supposed to be asleep, should have been hours ago, and from the state of her tangled locks, she has been.<p>

"What are you doing?" she asks huskily from the stairwell.

He cracks a grin at the sound of her deep voice, finding it moderately amusing and somewhat ethereal that he gets to hear it, before he lowers the lid of her laptop.

"Just some unimportant searching," he vaguely dismisses as he sets the computer onto the coffee table.

She settles beside him on the couch and he sweeps a blanket over them. It flows through the air and settles over their bodies as he laces an arm behind her back and she molds into him. Her head is resting on his shoulder and her eyes are closed, apparently still heavy from the sleep she's just stepped away from.

And there's a brief second where she's silent and he thanks his lucky stars that he doesn't have to answer questions he's not ready to supply answers to. Because while she's followed through on her declaration flawlessly, he's spent most nights still searching for his long lost bro. Whether it be through online articles or spur of the moment trips to various towns.

He's not even sure why he does it because obviously Stefan has no desire of rekindling their sacred family bond. There's just something inside of him that refuses to let go. Perhaps it's that hope that she inserted into his chest only months ago. It makes sense since he's never been able to release anything she's given him in the past.

She stirs next to him before the inevitable happens and she questions, "What were you searching?" The statement punches his previous relief straight from his chest because he's never been able to lie to the girl. She'd see right through him if he tried. But he's a master at deflection.

"Nothing important; let's just get some sleep," he attempts, but she hears the slight edge in his voice.

Her head lifts and even in the darkness of the night, her eyes seem to glow like crystal balls as they stare at him. "What were you searching?"

He sighs and admits, "I was just looking for hints about Stefan."

She nods as if this comes as no surprise; as if she's very much aware of the fact that this is how he spends the early hours of his evenings, before she lowers her head back down into his shoulder nook.

"And did you find anything?" she asks sleepily.

"No," he replies softly as his body relaxes into hers.

"I'm sorry," she whispers against his skin and he can tell she means. But not because she's disappointed in his answer, and instead because he is.

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><p>The aroma of Thanksgiving dinner blasts him through the door of the Gilbert household. He can hear Ric and Jeremy around back tending to something on the grill, but instead of joining his friend and the boy, he steps swiftly through the front door.<p>

There's a clanking of pans as Caroline says, "I get that you think he's going to change, Elena, but we've already had this conversation."

"She's got a point," Bonnie chimes in and he stops dead in his tracks. He's obviously the topic of today's girl session and although it's impolite to eavesdrop, he snickers and assures himself it's rude to interrupt.

"I don't want him to change," Elena responds defensively. "I've already tried to change him and that didn't end well. Besides, I think he's pretty perfect the way he is."

"We _are_ talking about Damon right?" Caroline asks incredulously. "I mean the same guy that compelled me into being his human blood bag for a month?"

Elena's sigh is completely recognizable against any others. "C'mon, you know that's not the same guy we're talking about."

"Isn't it?" Caroline contradicts.

There's a long pause as she contemplates her response and Damon finds himself edging onto his tippy toes in an attempt to move closer to the girls without being discovered.

"I guess in the literal sense he is, but that wasn't the real Damon. We all know that version of him disappeared a long time ago and he did it on his own," she finally replies. "I guess reaccepting your humanity has that effect."

The tiny smile pulls on the corners of his lips and he's incapable of stopping it. He's damn sure she's one of the wisest people he knows, which is rather remarkable for her age, but when it comes to her effect on him, she's completely clueless. She's nothing but the sole reason his humanity's reappeared and the girl seriously needs to supply herself some credit.

"So you're not trying to mold him into Stefan still?" Bonnie questions accusingly.

He hears the rush of air as Elena's head swivels through the air. "No. I just want him to continue being who he has been; himself."

And this time, the smile that covers his face is anything but tiny.

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><p>He doesn't waste time on the internet or on the road searching for Stefan that night. Instead he lingers around her bedroom until the girl's leave. A few minutes pass where he listens to Elena hum the tune to some song he's unfamiliar with and wash dishes before she makes her way upstairs.<p>

The delighted smile that glows from her face at his presence is contagious and involuntarily his lips curl up to mimic hers.

"You're here early," she blissfully assesses with a quick emphatic glance towards her alarm clock.

"I never really left," he confesses.

The truth is, he's never really been able to leave her. Not since the moment he caught sight of her for the first time and certainly not after she defended his honor this afternoon.

"You know you didn't have to sit up here alone," she reasons sympathetically.

"It's okay," he justifies as he pats the bed beside him, motioning for her to join him.

She does without question and this time, as they slide onto their backs and into their standard lounging position, she twines her fingers through his.

He can feel her pulse through the skin of his fingers, almost supplying him with the feeling that he's alive. This is fitting really, since he does whenever she's around. Funny how she's strong enough to supply them both a steady stream of humanity.

"You know what I'm thankful for," he finally asks, breaking the previous comfortable silence.

Her noses scrunches and a few lines appear between her brows as she questions, "What?"

"You," he answers breathily.

She's staring at him now, studying him as if she's trying to memorize every detail of his face. This confuses him because after all of this time, he'd forever be able to conjugate the vision of hers. But then her lashes drift down and her lips approach his and all mental processes cease up.

Because there's sparks and jolts of electricity and everything cliché' you're supposed to feel when locking lips with _that_ person. He's never felt more human as the blood surges under his thick skin and he struggles to keep control over the portion of his body that's been dying to claim her as his own for far too long now.

The kiss is tender, exploratory, as it extends into the vast distance of time, separating them from everything. And for the first time in months, Stefan is the furthest from his mind.

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><p>Things change after that night.<p>

Opinions on his intentions begin to transition and he feels almost included into her circle of friends and family. For once in his eternal life, he feels the power of acceptance and the influence it has on him is truly spectacular. Almost as astonishing as the influence she's always had on him.

He still bickers with everyone; still offers the standard witty one-liners because honestly there'd be no humor in the circle without them. But slowly they're all starting to see the parts of him that Elena previously had claim over. The genuine parts of him that only reappeared once she came into his life.

Then there's his relationship with her.

There's a constant smile on his face, continuous chuckles sounding from his throat, and the feeling of finally obtaining something absolute. She pushes him when he needs it, scorns him when he's being ridiculous, and never backs down during their petty arguments. And day in and day out, he knows it's immaculate how much she continues to save him from his old self.

But most importantly, he's noticing that more often than not, he's finding himself in bed with her instead of scowering the countryside for someone who doesn't want to be found. And slowly he's pulling himself from that dark hole that Stefan initially dug for him.

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><p>His trips have become almost nonexistent, but he finds a lead online and just has to check it out. It's another dead end, of course, they always are. And as a result, he feels mentally exhausted; like a bright star that's finally reached its end and burnt out.<p>

She's the only one that can offer him the charge he needs. Just the simple touch of her olive skin or the sweet scent of her breath against his face is all that's required to make him feel meaningful again. But as he sneaks his way through her bedroom window, in hopes of joining her in bed, she's sitting up straight with her back against the headboard.

"Where were you, Damon?" she asks with an accusatory tone.

"Cow tipping," he replies with his typical smirk.

But she ignores his witty comeback and directs him straight back to the issue at hand. "Why are you still doing this to yourself?"

"Doing what to myself?" he quips before he can help it.

"Holding on to something that's only to continue destroying you," she answers; nothing but sadness flickering across her eyes.

"It's not destroying me," he scoffs.

"Clearly," she responds sarcastically as her eyes roam judgingly over his blood-drenched attire.

His gaze lowers to the saturated shirt. Crimson ink stretches across the thing thanks to the two vampires he found instead of Stefan. He hadn't wanted to start a fight with them, but what could he say; they caught him at a bad time.

There's a long sigh consumed with exhaustion as she stresses, "I'm just trying to help you."

She means it. He can read it in her eyes that she's being earnest and she really believes that he's destroying himself. He doesn't like the look and it's downright heart-wrenching to see it on her face.

But he's pissed now. Pissed beyond belief because she's the only person he's every truly loved in the most purest sense of the word; the only love he's ever felt without it being tarnished by some form of hate. And for the first time since he's known her, he feels that sliver of hatred slip through him, directed in her direction. Because she's being selfish and he _wants_ to hate her for it.

So he screams out, "By forcing me to let go? Forcing me to give up?"

She shakes her slowly through the air as compassion floods across her chocolate orbs. "By asking you to move on," she clarifies.

He responds by shaking his head as well, although his movement is much more lively and spastic, but he's lost control of his emotions. Because she was supposed to supply him strength, not destroy the remaining bits he had left. He's like a freight train now, bustling towards his own destructive collision. Can see it in the near distance, but is incapable of stopping it.

"I can't move on," he spits out. "And frankly, I'm surprised you were able to so easily."

Then he launches himself through her window before she has time to make him feel any worse than he already does.

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><p>He's practically downing full bottles of whiskey when he decides to call the only person that can possibly help him at the moment. Katherine surprisingly picks up and when he asks her about Stefan, she doesn't hold back on telling him the truth about why he left and where he went.<p>

He doesn't blink before slamming the door of his vehicle, shooting bits of gravel under his tires, and driving the four states to see him.

The encounter is anything but pleasant. Actually, it's downright brutal and his body shows the results of that for more minutes than it really should.

Violent words are exchanged and Damon's utterly flabbergasted over why the hell he cares so much that Stefan confess the truth. He knows the truth and that's all that should matter. And he's pretty sure it has something to do with how crucial honesty has become in his life, but disregards that notion.

He leaves to head back home tattered and broken, not just physically but mentally. And the weight of his brother's dishonesty is more substantial than he's ever been capable of bearing on his own.

He chooses not to burden Elena with the weight, considering her expressed opinion on the matter and the horrendous way he reacted to her earlier. But he's not given a choice because she's sitting on the couch when he opens the front door of the boarding house.

He's ashamed to show her the liquid consistency in his eyes. It hasn't fallen over, he'd never let it overpower his resistant will over something like this. So he drops his head to the floor, feeling his emotions spill out before him as he does, and declares weakly, "You were right."

She doesn't say anything; doesn't mutter an '_I told you so'_ and doesn't ask him to clarify or expand on the encounter that so successfully managed to change his disposition that started their ridiculous argument. Instead she makes her way over, wraps her arms around him, and supplies him the strength he needs now more than ever. He doesn't have the will to resist her, doesn't even want to resist her; frankly he never has. So he falls into her, accepting everything she's willing to offer.

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><p>The breaking dawn has long since become their special time. It's the precise moment where you can choose how the rest of the day pans out and that following morning, he chooses honesty over anything else. He'd always choses honesty when it comes to her.<p>

He tells her everything; leaves nothing out. Admits the countless hours he's been searching for his brother before he crawls into bed with her every night. Divulges on every time he's built his hopes up only to have them come crashing back down. Discloses the real reason Stefan stopped him from killing Klaus and why he left. Confesses the way he felt when he confronted him about it. And ultimately declares just how important she is when it comes to keeping him afloat.

She initially surprises him by apologizing for her actions the night before. If anything, he's supposed to be the one apologizing, but she doesn't let him and refuses to let him speak the words.

Then her arms slide around him in that comforting way only she can manufacture and whispers, "It'll all be okay. And if not, I'll be here every step of the way."

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><p>The days that follow are a kaleidoscope of different emotions and she keeps her promise; the same way she always does when it concerns him. She's nurturing when he knows he's being pathetic, understanding when he's being rational, and supportive when he breaks down. He's surprisingly not ashamed during the breakdown moments and he knows it has everything to do with the fact that they've both opened up so completely to the other.<p>

And also because she loves him, he knows this because she tells him. And it's followed by a long list of the reasons why that make him feel a little insufficient against the man she claims him to be. But she believes he possesses the characteristics and she'd defend her argument straight to her grave if he made her. And as the days pass, he begins to believe them himself.

She reminds him often that it's the reason Stefan chose to save him after all. And eventually he comes to the conclusion that she's right. It doesn't matter if Stefan admits it or not, because deep down he knows it's the truth.

He pulls himself from that familiar emotional gave slowly, with her support every step of the way of course. Because she can't help herself; she just _has_ to save him.

And by now she understands how completely she has; not just in one sense of the word, but in every. Because _he's_ told _her_.

And with each kiss against her forehead, each slip of her locks through his fingertips, and each taste of her tongue on his, he's reminded just how lucky he is to have her. Because after everything, she's the only one that was able to teach him just how easy letting can go can be, as long as you have someone else as strong as her to hold onto.

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><p><em><strong>Pleas read and review. :)<strong>_


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